Not yet past the Point of no Return
by PenPusher4
Summary: Right at the end of POTO, kinda AU; Christine realizes that she had done a terrible mistake by going with Raoul and now returns to the Phantom..ErikChristine
1. Not yet past the point of no return

Disclaimer : Unfortunately I do NOT own POTO..otherwise Erik would have ended up with Christine long ago ;)

_Chapter 1 :_ Not yet_ past the Point of no Return_

* * *

Raoul was already rowing them over the lake, when her thoughts were still swirling wildly through her head - just like the mist did on the lake´s surface.

She felt strange..to say the least.

Wasn´t her face supposed to lighten up with joy as the aspect of finally beginning a life without dangers and worries with the one she loved and had known since her childhood ?

Wasn´t she supposed to feel satisfied with her life and confirmed that she had done everything right and not chosen wrong ?

Shouldn´t she feel _excited _?...Not at least a little bit ?

Because there was non..No feeling like that at all.

Christine just felt empty and very sad..to be underestimating.

It was as if life and joy had drained out of here, and all that was left sitting in the boat was a mere shadow.

A shadow, which felt as if every row of the boat brought her away from possible salvation a bit more.

She turned her head and faced Raoul, who was far too concerned with trying to get them out of here as fast as he could, to notice her .

It really was strange...She looked at her lover and all the feelings she had been having for him...were _gone_.._simply gone_...

She tried to remember them...though as hard as she tried all she could find in her soul then, were mere symphaties..nothing more and nothing less..

He may be a good friend, yes...but a lover ? Not anymore..Not since there had been the Phantom...

"Angel.." She let his "name" linger on her tongue in a whispered manner, as if it was a delicious meal which earned to be relished, afraid for a second that Raoul could be hearing her. But he didn´t, _of course..._

And so her mind wandered off...

..._to dark distant places as _my _Angel would have said_. She smiled sadly.

_I wonder..what if ? Just _what if

_What if I had chosen him ?_

_What if I had chosen the Phantom over Raoul ?_

_What if...what if I had chosen _right

And then it hit her. Everything became so heavenly clear, that she nearly laughed out loud at the simplicity of it.

"Raoul ?" She said in a loud and steady voice, so she was sure to be heard.

"Yes, my love ?" He asked, slightly out of breath.

"Take- take me back."

This demand actually made him stop at once in his rowing. He turned around and looked at her as if she were mad; which she seemed to him.

"My love ? Surely you mean "take me back to the light and away from the monster"? Don´t you ?"

His voice had changed into a slightly pleading, unbelieving tone.

"No, Raoul, with "back" I mean "back"...Back to _the Phantom_."

His expression became unreadable. Christine wasn´t sure if he was going to hit her or to cry over it.

Then his lips began to tremble.

"You- you can´t be serious, Christine ! This...this is someting he put you under, right ? Like some sort of spell ? Yes, that has got to be it, you´re still under his spell, nothing more ! Christine ?"

This last question of his, was asked as a need to be confirmed.

"_Raoul_, listen..." She looked him straight into the eye, a determinded look on her face.

"Either you row me back or I´ll _swim_ back ! It doesn´t matter what you do, I´ll get back either way...the only difference is, that I´ll get wet one way, which I wouldn´t appreciate so much..."

He stared back at her; suddenly with a hard expression, just looking as determinded as herself.

"Fine ! Seeing as you´re not going to be helpful I´ll take things into my own hands !"

With that she stood up and prepared to jump. If it wasn´t for a hand, that firmely grapped her arm.

"Forget it ! I won´t let you go back to that monster ! You´re out of your mind right now, and don´t even know it !"

"The only one out of his mind is you, Raoul ! I´ve made my final decision and now let me go, since I really don´t want to hurt you !"

He refused and even tightened his grip.

"Ok, I warned you about this..."

Before he could even react she kicked him hard between the legs - the ballerina lessons finally were good for something - and then pushed back and away at his injured shoulder, causing him to fall and remain, slightly whimpering in pain.

She advanced the end of the boat, turned around once more.

"I´m sorry, Raoul. Really, I´ve loved you once..but my heart thought otherwise...And if you still love me after this, then please, don´t come back or try to find me...Goodbye !"

With that she jumped.

A few exhausting moments later she had gotten used to the constant weight of her wedding dress, that tried to pull her underwater. Her mind focused on the destination ahead; she swam on without much difficulty.

Finally she reached the shore. Allowing herself to collaps on the sand. Through half-lidded eyes she noticed the boat still present but already farer away. She smiled to herself.

_So he held his promise.._

Again, she stood up, trying to get the water out of her clothes while she walked.

Her eyes darted across the room, trying to find her beloved Phantom.

_Just where could he be ? Maybe.._

She turned her head, when she heard the faint sound of music coming from the room that was up the stairs.

_If this is the same room that has got the bed in it ?_ For reasons unknown to her, she blushed at that thought.

Christine quickly made her way, carefully trying not to drip over her still wet dress.

With her heart beating fast in her chest, she finally stood in front of _the room_.

Different emotions tore her inside apart :

For one there was excitement, about the - hopefully - final right decision.

Then nervousnes, on how he would react.

And then anxiousity; about the "what if not´s" that she did not dare let herself think about.

Taking a deep breath, she summoned all her strength and walked into the room.

She was relieved, when she actually saw him sitting there. On the bed, where she once had been sleeping in...

She carefully advanced him, but not too far. Wanting to leave him enough space, that he still could decide and felt comfortable.

-----------------------------------------------------------

After the two humans had left him for good, the Phantom had silently returned to the depth of his lair; backing away from the world, not wanting to be a part of it anymore.

_Actually..._He thought_...I don´t care..._

_I don´t care enough anymore.._

The world and everything in it, had died the moment his beloved angel had left him...

When he then heard the footsteps, his first thought was of the mob.

_So they finally arrived here...here in my _secret_ lair.. _

_...So be it..! I couldn´t care less.._

He just wondered for seconds if they would simply kill him or first torture and humiliate him...though latter would be quite impossible by now, since his backbone and pride had been shattered into a million of pieces..as had been his heart.

The footsteps continued and increased in volume, which ment, that the someone was coming nearer.

Although one part of him didn´t care, the other - the curious and still alive part - wondered why it only was a single one. His hearing wasn´t that bad - quite the opposite ! - that he wasn´t able to differ from the sound one single person was making to a large crowd in riot...Or was it ?

The rustling of feet over ground stopped for a moment, then went on, though this time slower.

The someone seemed to be standing outside right now.

_Maybe someone´s been sent out to look if _I_ was still there..a scout of some sort..._

Lazy he turned his head to take a closer at this newcomer;

To his greatest surprise it was no one else, ...but...

_Christine !?_

_...This - this is impossible ! There is no way in hell she can truly be standing here !..._

_None !_

_I- I must be dreaming it,..just my imagination...!_

_May- maybe...this was all, but a long and wonderful dream.._

_I always suspected that the happiness I felt when being with her couldn´t be from this world.._

_All just a dream..._

Her heart skipped a beat when the Phantom looked at her, a sad smile on his lips.

Although - and if he hadn´t seen her after all - he turned his attention to the puppet of a monkey, clad in persian clothes with chimes in its hands, that turned out to be a musical box, which stood right before him on a table.

A soft and familiar melody began to play out of it. She immediately recognized the song as the one being played at the masquerade.

To _her_ surprise, her Phantom began to sing softly. His eyes never leaving the monkey, though he seemed to be seeing something else in the back of his mind :

" Masquerade !  
Paper faces on parade . . .

Masquerade !  
Hide your face,  
so the world will  
never find you !"

He had closed his eyes at the last tune, and opened them again, when he looked at her with the same sad expression as before.

"Shall I ? Hide my face again and escape ?...What do you think, oh my angelic imagination ?"

He gave her a strange smile; which made her quite uneasy to decide, wheter she should smile back or feel afraid.

"You may say.." He continued. "..it seems to be rather crazy to talk to a memory...a ghost of the past no longer related to me..." He gave a light sob, diving deeper into his depression.

This sight of him almost broke her heart and ripped at her soul.

Had he really lost all hope for her and was truly seeing her as a mere imagination, since not being able to comprehend..not able to _bare with it_...not able to believe, that for once his life had turned good.

The pain she felt was almost physical; like someone had stabbed her right into the heart.

Suddenly his mood changed; from mere sadness to darkest bitterness. Raising his voice he looked at her accusingly;

"Just why are you haunting me ?! Haven´t I suffered enough already, can´t you just let me alone ??" Tears were running down his face by now, even on his right side.

In a semi-outburst he stood up, and did a few steps on shaky legs in her direction, waving his hands in a gesture that should probably scare her away.

"Go away !" He screamed, obviously in pain. "Leave me alone !!"

Sobbing hard now, he returned to the edge of the bed and let himself fall onto it, his face in his hands. She watched him struggle with his inner turmoil, not daring to interfere.

It didn´t take long and his breathing had returned to a more or less normal manner; but still was his face hidden between his fingers.

"Take-...take away.." His voice weak at the beginning, ragged. "Take away these memories of my love !" In a whisper he continued; like he was telling a secret the world was not supposed to hear.

"Take away the memories of her body and her face, of the sound of her voice...so that my mind can soothe and my heart becomes empty once again..."

This moved her heart to a point where she feared it would burst;

tears also running in streams down her cheeks.

Silently crying together with him, she advanced his crestfallen form and knealed down right in front of him. Her voice full of regret and remorse, when she whispered to him; new tears already forming in her eyes;

"Oh my Angel...what have I done ?"

She took his hands into hers, squeezed them; fresh tears falling on his skin.

Her tears seemed to somehow bring him back to reality; as the wetness seeped through the thick layer of black dismalness and hopelessness and awakened him once again.

As if awakening out of a trance, he stared down at her with wide eyes, unbelieving..

Was he dreaming ?

No, for the tears felt much too real on the skin of his hand.

So was this _really_ his angel there in front of him, regretting the past ?

"Christine ?" He asked unbelieving, with a voice hoarse from crying.

She looked up, her eyes slightly puffy from the tears she had just shed _on him, because of him, _

_for him_...

Nontheless there was also a weak smile around the corners of her mouth;

she was reliefed that her angel was talking to her again.

On one hand she wanted to tell him so much : how sorry she was, that she really felt terrible for her past actions; but also of her feelings about him - feelings, that till now had been just vaguely to her, almost ghostlike, shadowy.._just like him_.

On the other side she feared that too much talking would scare him away; maybe making him think that this was all a trap, that she only came back to distract him till the police and the mob arrived. So she simply asked - putting as much emotion in it as possible;

"Yes ?" Her smile grew wider, wanting to encourage him on whatever he was planning next.

He began to tremble; his face a meeting point of all kind of emotions at one time.

Despite that, he managed to speak with a steady but quiet voice, reaching out to touch her face with one hand;

"My Angel..is that really you ? My Angel of Music, _my Christine_..?"

She just nodded as an answer, suppressing a sob; trying to smile her most beautiful smile and pressing her face against the tentative hand of his.

His eyes met hers and then it was the first time they both did realize how much their lifes just had changed. The green of his eyes still of a sad shade, but not as much as they had before.

An expression she had never seen before on him tried to break the surface.

Maybe relief ? Overwhelming joy ? Or had she really been so blind and never seen this look in his eyes before, that promised her heaven and so much more all in one look, willing to give up anything for her, for _them_... Had she never seen this _breathtaking shine of love _in his eyes ?

He broke out in tears anew, looking down for the slightest moment to gather himself again.

When he looked up again, he brought a second hand to her face, cupping it, his fingers caressing the flesh they found beneath; he gently stroked over her cheeks and eyelids, lingered shortly on her lip to then brush along her throat just at he´d done before.

She closed her eyes at this sudden sign of affection.

Reluctantly Erik stopped, and eventually kissed her forehead, whispering against it;

"Stand up now, my love. For we have to leave."

* * *

Note : Reviews are much appreciated ;)


	2. A coach in the night

Disclaimer: Still I dont own POTO --

_Chapter 2 : A coach in the night _

Handing her a large blood red bag - which he had undoubtedly made himself, as it was of the same fabric as his Red Death costume - Erik told Christine to put all his compositions, quills, and everything else she found around the organ, into it.

Meanwhile he was helping himself by grabbing another bag - a blue one - and stuffed certain belongings - like scribbled notes and (substition) masks - in the inside of it.

Hovering in front of his desk for a moment, looking down at the little figurines he had made of himself as Don Juan and of Christine; he thought of destroying them for the split of a second, too many bad memories going along with them, reminding him of the past. Yet the pride in his own work and the beauty he had created prevailed, so that he took the figures carefully in his hands, wrapping a cloth around each of them - to save them from breaking - and then placed them with a somehow dreamy look in the bag. Scanning the remaining contents of his desk and surrounding he took a few handful here and there, so that the bag eventually became full.

Taking out yet another bag - this time a black leathered one - he went over to a wall of the cave, counting down to a certain number, while his eyes kept wandering, then knelt down at the spot he had stopped counting, revealing a hidden natural hole in the stone wall.

Out of it, he took several bunches of bank notes. Well, more than just _several_..there were enough bunches to fill the whole bag, and let even some stand out.

Looking satisfied he heaved the heavy bag next to the other on the desk.

Letting his eyes wander to Christine, who was still at the organ, he smiled to himself.

He went over to her, saying in a soft voice;

"That should be enough, Christine. I may need a few papers but not all the opera´s I´ve written.." She jumped, not having expected him to talk to her all of sudden.Christine turned around to face him.

"Al- alright.." She responded, a weak smile on her lips. Slightly unsure of how to react around him. In the back of her mind she scolded herself for not being able to admit, that she was still unused to look into his unmasked face, and that she was a bit afraid of what she saw there.

"May-maybe.." She started, turning his attention to her again, "..I should change into something more ...handy ?"

His expression became unreadable, to the point of frightening her. She didn´t wish to anger or insult him, so she added quickly;

"Not that I don´t like _your_ wedding dress - it´s beautiful really -" Making her - and even him - though she must have imagined that - blush for a moment, "I just think, that if I could walk freely and without the weight, it would be more easier for...whatever to do next.."

Erik turned his face away from her slightly, by now a faint yet definite blush on his cheeks.

"Well...then you better undress - eh I mean, _change dresses _in the room over there."

He responded, pointing to his bedroom. It seemed that the thought of having her dressing - and thus being naked for a short while - in his lairs - so almost _in his presence _- made him feel quite strange and uneasy. To him, it was a toss between heaven and hell. Bliss and sin.

Erik watched her as she made her way to the room, the new dress already in her arms. Then his glance fell on his mask and toupee..which she both had ripped off his face, ..and even worse... _in public_ !

He sighed, a strange expression appearing on his face.

"So I guess I could use my own "re-dressing", now don´t I ?" He wondered to himself loudly, taking both things in his hands.

* * *

When Christine returned, she found her Phantom clad with his usual mask and toupee again. Herself, she wore the dress she had worn during the "Don Juan Triumphant" opera.

It wasn´t her idea of a travel cloth, for sure, but it was better than nothing - or a wedding dress.

"Ah, I see Mademouiselle is ready now." Erik greeted her, obviously in a better mood after regaining a more decent look.

"So are you, Monsieur." She instantly answered back, with a half grin.

He seemed to be shortly taken aback about this fast response of hers; nontheless letting the smile on his lips stay present, if not even increasing it.

After realising that he had _stared _at her - directly ! - for more than a half minute, he looked down embarrassed and cleared his throat, looking up again.

"As you may see, I haven´t spent my time unuseful, but instead finished packing." He stated, pointing to - by now - four fully-stuffed and rather heavy-looking bags resting on his desk.

"The rest - that either isn´t of such a high value or simply is too big to transport -" At that he looked at his organ in a regretting and sad way, "...I´m afraid has to stay in my lair..which will be nobody´s lair, as we´re leaving for good today !"

The suppressed bitterness in his voice disappeared, as he adressed her friendly.

"But this shall not be of your concerns, my dear... Now, if you just were so kind, as to give me your dress ?"

An awkward silence followed.

Blushing and clearing his throat _again_, Erik added;

"I was referring to your wedding dress, the dress you are _not_ wearing right now. The one you´re holding in your hands.."

Red in the face, Christine simply pushed the clothing into his hands, not saying a word.

Erik had to fight back the urge very hard, not to sink his nose into this welcome piece of warm fabric, which held the scent of his beloved Christine captured in it. Wondering, which part of her naked body the fabric spot - he was touching with his fingertips, while carrying - had touched; his blush deepened even more.

Almost tenderly, he pushed the dress into one bag out of the four, which seemed to have least chance of bursting when filled with yet another thing.

Overlooking the bags and his lair one more time, he turned around looking at Christine, looking at his future.

Letting out a deep, final breath Erik stormed past Christine to a white sculpture leaning against the wall. His hands were inches away from the sculptures head, when a somewhat frightened cry from Christine stopped him.

"No wait ! I can understand that you must be angry for not being able to take your sculptures with you, but that´s really no reason to destro-"

He simply gave her one confused look, put his hands on the stone head - and with one firm movement turned the head anti-clockwise to the side.

Suddenly a rumpling, almost thundering sound could be heard, and a door in the stone wall opened, leading to a secret passageway.

Christine was taken aback, to say the least. It wasn´t everyday that doors opened out of nowhere !

She felt ashamed too..for thinking that Erik already had lost his temper again.

_Well it´s only understandable of me to think like that, I guess..after seeing what he can be up to when he´s angry... _

She was ripped out of her thoughts, by Erik tugging had her arm urgently.

"Come ! We have to leave ! The door won´t stay open for all eternity !" He exclaimed, taking one bag in eachhand, leaving in the direction of the wall. Christine did the same, although she had to experience that the bags _had_ to be filled with bricks - that was, was she mused at least - for they were really pretty heavy.

_Thank god my legs are trained, so they won´t start buckling !_

And with that they stormed into darkness, out of their old lifes into an uncertain future.

* * *

Dusk lay over Paris, the sun something one could merely forebode, a few curious stars already shining high above in the darkening blue sky. Streetlamps were lightened just about this time, some coaches driving around, taking the rich to their even richer friends or the the opera.

Once outside, Erik and Christine - with their unforgettable luggage - went over to one of these lamps, to stay and wait for a coach.

It was a chilly night, something Christine had forgotten. Little signs of goose bombs went over her body back and forth. Swearing mildly under her breath she tried to warm herself up with her arms, as she was still only wearing her dress.

_Which could definitely need a bit more fabric...and fur..._

Suddenly warmth surrounded her body. Unbelieving she touched the coat with her fingertips, that had all of sudden appeared around her shoulders.

A questioning and slightly helpless glance over to Erik explained everything.

"But why-"

"-you´re obviously cold, my dear. So why questioning when receiving something warm ?"

He answered, as he stepped behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, his green eyes gaining a warm touch as he looked directly into hers.

"But how-"

"After guessing the right size for your wedding dress, then what´s so difficult about using the same size for a coat ?"

She fell silent, though smiled instead.

For a moment Erik was captivated by her eyes, by her face..by everything of her; his head unintentionally moving nearer to hers, his lips moving closer to hers...when he suddenly withdrew like he´d been hit by lightning. (A/N: which wasn´t far from truth, considering all the hormones racing through his body..)

Taking a few steps away from her, he turned around, thus facing her with his back and murmuring something like "Better take my own on now, too.." whilst rummaging through his bag. After taking on a long black coat he joined her under the lamp again,...with enough space in between that is. Before she could even start to wonder what this was all about, she saw a coach advancing out of the corner of her eyes.

Waving her hand she shouted;

"Pardon ! Pardon, Monsieur !"

The coachman - what a wonder - noticed them and made his horses grow faster in pace, before he came to an abrupt halt in front of the waiting pair.

"Pardon, Monsieur, but do you happen to have enough room left for the two of us and our luggage ?"

"Sure I do ! The whole coach shall be yours, you´re my first passengers tonight."

Christine, uncertain wheter this was a good or bad sign, simply nodded and handed him Erik´s scribbled note on where he should drive them.

The driver took awhile to understand, then his face lightened up.

"So it´s bye bye Paris and hello country for the two of you, yes ?" Eyeing them carefully - especially Erik - he added;

"Honeymoon, eh ?" Grinning he hopped off his coach and loaded their luggages in the back of it, then holding them up their doors.

"I wish a pleasant ride, you two lovebirds..." Laughing the coachman climbed up again;

leaving Erik to scowl at the words while helping Christine inside.

* * *

Inside the lack of conversation continued. Each of them sitting on a different bench, facing each other - or they would have, if they weren´t so distracted with trying to avoid each other´s gaze. To reduce it to simple words : both felt unsure, suddenly very uncomfortable by being so close to the other and simply struck down by embarrassment...of what and why however, they didn´t knew.

They spent about half and hour sitting there in silence, when suddenly the door was opened and a young man went inside.

"G´night everybody !" He exclaimed, almost a bit too happily. Obviously he was coming straight from a party. Although Christine wondered, who would invite such a man, considering his manners. Instead of sitting modest, he sat there broad-legged, almost taking in the whole bench. Adding she could have sworn that he stared into her decolleté, when he thought she wasn´t looking. But enough was enough, when she felt his filthy hands wandering towards her thigh. Instantly standing up - and not caring one bit that the coach drove over uneven ground - she changed benches and sat down next to Erik, who looked at her arrival somewhat confused.

_I better not be mentioning this awful guy and his hands or there will be murder faster than I can blink !...And a crime and the attention of the public would be the last thing we need right now,..even though the guy could earn a punishment..._

The man - obviously to dump to comprehend that Christine was married and so no longer a target for flirting - continued by giving her more or less hinted, obnoxious hints.

Like wettening his lips with his tongue or to sink lower in his bench while moving his hips to emphasize "certain things".

As an answer to this unoversightable flirt tries, Christine took Erik´s hand in hers with a sweet smile in Erik´s direction. Erik - at first overwhelmed - didn´t knew what made him more happy; the warm sensation that was sent all over his body from the place on his hand, where she touched him...or the way she was proudly showing her wedding ring..._his_ _ring_..the ring he´d given to her...

Fortunately the rude man left the coach after ten minutes again, leaving them in their shared silence anew; a good silence, nontheless, since even silence could be music to Erik, as long as it was filled with Christine´s heartbeat next to his own.

* * *

Note: I would LOVE reviews ;)


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